


A Splash of Vanilla

by Theluminousfisheffect



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anxiety, Cookies, Dissociation, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut, Stress Baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 09:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12273810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theluminousfisheffect/pseuds/Theluminousfisheffect
Summary: Alex tipped his head back and gazed up at the white ceiling of his home office. He wasn’t old enough for this shit.  His mind wandered, chasing after every thought he had, pulling in a hundred different directions.  There were too many things to focus on and Alex’s attention had shattered as easily as sugar glass.  He put his hands on his thighs and drummed his fingers.Jesus, he needed a break.





	A Splash of Vanilla

_“You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay?”_

Alex had been staring at the laptop screen for too long. He had turned the brightness down an hour ago to save his burning eyes but the searing white of the document was still frying his retinas. If his eyes drifted from the screen, he was pretty sure he would still see the imprint of the words he had long since lost the meaning of. His mind grappled with them but it was like trying to hold a bar of soap with wet hands. 

He sighed and rubbed his eyes hard with the tips of his fingers. They were cool against his skin and it soothed his tired eyes just a little. The white was blessedly gone for a moment, replaced by the darkness of the inside of his eyelids, until the whole world started shaking and multitudes of coloured splotches danced across his vision like stars in the night sky.

Alex’s head was swimming. He could feel his fingers against his eyelids when he moved them but the rest of the world was as distant as the horizon. He was vaguely aware of his chair against the back of his thighs and the pressure of the edge of his desk biting into his forearms. He tried to concentrate on the solidness of the chair beneath him, to feel where it was making contact with his body but his attention was dragged away to the sound of the clock ticking loudly on the wall to his left. The feeling of the desk, of the chair, of his body evaporated into the haze, wholly engulfed by the ticking. He tried to focus on the clock instead but the sound faded out to the pain in his eyes as they tried to focus on the inside of his eyelids. Nothing about him or about the room felt real. Alex sighed again and rubbed his eyes until the shaking subsided. 

He hummed softly to himself and sat back in his chair, blinking the world slowly back into place. A jaw-cracking yawn clawed its way up from his chest and made his eyes water. Alex blinked the moisture away and suddenly the world around him was outlined again. It was clean and crisp like he had stepped outside into the sweet, crystalline reverie after a rainstorm and for a few moments, it almost felt real again. He rolled his shoulders back and tensed. There was a dull pain all through his back as the muscles stretched and groaned in protest after being hunched over his laptop for so long. He really needed to remember to stretch more often. He rolled his neck back and the bones ground rather than cracked, making a horrible gristly sound that made Alex grimace. Still, it was something tangible that he had to work with. Something that proved he wasn’t watching his life through a screen. Jesus, that would be block buster, he thought sarcastically to himself. Man dissociates while staring at his laptop for hours. That had thriller written all over it. 

He bowed his head forward tiredly and massaged his neck, digging his fingers in hard. His neck felt like a bag of gravel. His fingers made little circles in the muscles and then skated up the length of his neck, easing out the knots. At the base of his skull, he pressed two fingers in at either side of his spine and winced at the sharp twinge that shot through his head. God damn it, he was such an old man. The popping and cracking his joints did made him sound more like a man of eighty than thirty. 

Alex tipped his head back and gazed up at the white ceiling of his home office. He wasn’t old enough for this shit. His mind wandered, chasing after every thought he had, pulling in a hundred different directions. There were too many things to focus on and Alex’s attention had shattered as easily as sugar glass. He put his hands on his thighs and drummed his fingers.

Jesus, he needed a break.

He couldn’t afford to take one.

But he wasn’t doing any more work like this so break or not didn’t really make a difference, did it?

Alex sighed again; he was going to be personally responsible for climate change with the levels of carbon dioxide he was expelling, and dragged his ass out of the chair. He stood and stretched his arms above his head, arching his spine. The tiniest twist made the vertebrae crack like a whip and he almost sagged in relief once the tension was gone. He really was an old man. What was he going to be like if he actually lived to eighty? 

He pushed that thought away quickly. When he was this zoned out, it was far too easy to spiral into morbid thoughts and he really didn’t need that right now. He would never get back to work if he spent the rest of the evening fending off an anxiety attack and he needed to get back to work. So Alex blinked and tried to focus on the world around him and on calming his heart that had decided it didn’t want to stay in his chest anymore and was pounding at the inside of his ribcage like a jackhammer. 

He took a slow, deep breath, focusing on the way it made his diaphragm stretch. He held it, counted to four and blew it out through his mouth. 

Alex broke out of his office and headed to the kitchen, pretending that anxiety wasn’t gnawing at his insides because he wasn’t working and he hadn’t finished yet. He knew it was ridiculous; everyone needed a break now and again, probably much sooner than Alex had taken this one but he couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted itself into knots. There was a hurricane in his chest that was helping his traitorous heart in its escape attempt. He slipped his hand under the neckline of his pyjama shirt and scratched at his chest as he marched to the kitchen. His short nails left angry red tracks across his skin, long rivers creeping over his collarbone and over the plane of his chest. 

The scratching quickly turned to pressing hard on his sternum as if his hand was the only thing keeping his heart in its proper place. Alex hadn’t exactly noticed how hard he was doing it until he took his hand away to pull his hair up into a makeshift ponytail and realised he could still feel his fingers bearing down on his chest. He rolled his eyes at himself and let his hair fall back around his face. His whole body felt heavy as lead and a weight rested behind his eyes. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the cupboards and took another deep breath. 

As he let it out, his feet started walking towards the pantry. He pulled it open and stared at the inside of it for a few seconds before his hand reached automatically for the flour. Well, Alex knew where this was going and honestly, he didn’t mind. It would be a good distraction. One that maybe he didn’t have enough time for but it appeared his mutinous body had made the decision of its own accord and he was just along for the ride. 

He gathered an armful of ingredients and carried them over to the workbench. He grabbed the plastic mixing bowl from one of the cupboards down the side of the oven, turning it on while he was there and set it on the counter. He flicked on the speaker and started playing his music from his phone while he measured out the ingredients from memory. He mixed the butter and sugar, added the egg and vanilla, sieved in flour and sugar and dumped handfuls of chocolate chips in until it was more or less a sticky mess in a plastic bowl. 

He smiled to himself; he could hear John making a sex joke in his head. 

Something along the lines of “You’d know all about sticky messes, wouldn’t you?”

Yeah, that was his John. 

Alex shook his head, grinning to himself like an idiot as he reached into the cutlery drawer for a teaspoon. With the amount of coffee those two drank, they were lucky they had a clean teaspoon in the house. He set it beside the bowl of cookie dough and bent down to get out a baking tray and baking paper, shutting the cupboard with his hip. 

He sang along with the song as he spread the paper over the tray and smoothed it down over the edges. The brown paper crinkled under his hands and Alex flicked his hair back, only for it to fall right back across his face. He tucked it behind his ear and lifted the spoon again, tapping it on the counter as he sang. He had forgotten all about work, for now at least, but it was something. His stomach wasn’t turning itself inside out, his chest wasn’t tight, he didn’t feel shaky or like he was going to be sick from sheer anxiety anymore. The music was in his veins now instead, the notes danced through his bloodstream. Every beat burrowed the song deeper under his skin. He felt lighter than he had all day as he spooned the mixture out onto the tray again and again, making sure they all had enough space to expand in the oven. 

Once the dough was all done, he pulled open the oven door, still singing to himself as he slid the tray into place, closed the door and set the timer. Alex hovered, watching the warm yellow glow pouring out through the window. It only took about ten minutes to bake the cookies and he needed to keep an eye on them. Besides, ten minutes wasn’t long enough to get back to the office and get any amount of work done before he would have to come back for them. 

At least he told himself it was that. It had nothing to do with the fact that the thought of going back into his office made his stomach sink into the floor. 

Alex’s mood nosedived again thinking about going back; it felt like being handed a prison sentence. His thoughts exploded with the force of a supernova, bombarding the inside of his skull. His brain felt like it was being veneered over the inside of his head. He folded his arms over his chest, ignoring that his heart was drumming harder than Phil Collins and tapped his foot on the ground in time with the music. He stared unseeingly at the oven door and the music faded away from him like a car turning out of the driveway. Alex still sang along softly; it took him three lines to realise that he hadn’t heard a word of what he had been singing. He shook his head and forced himself to concentrate on what his mouth was saying until his brain caught up and the music jumped back to life like someone had just cranked the speaker up. 

Determined to keep his attention from wandering back into the fog lingering just behind his eyes, Alex started piling the dishes on the counter. The teaspoon caught in his hoodie sleeve and clattered to the floor. He winced at the noise of metal on ceramic and glared at the offending piece of cutlery. He ducked to pick it up and tossed it into the mixing bowl with a sigh; Greenpeace were going to be on his ass for this soon; it was a fricking pandemic. 

He was bringing all of the dishes to the sink when he felt arms sliding around his waist that made him jump out of his skin. He hadn’t heard John coming into the room over the music, or maybe he was too out of it to notice but he heard John’s smug chuckle and felt the warmth of his nose brushing over the back of his neck.

“I know I’m hot, love, but you don’t have to have a heart attack every time I come into the room.”

Alex scowled and broke the embrace, bending down to get the spoon that had gone for another freefall when he jumped. That spoon and the kitchen floor were quickly becoming more of a couple than anything in 50 Shades of Grey. Not that that was difficult. He threw it back into the bowl, where hopefully it would stay this time and set the whole lot into the sink, keeping his back to John as he turned the water on. 

“Shut up. You scared the shit out of me. I didn’t hear you.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Shut up.”

“Is that any way to speak to your boyfriend?”

“When he’s being a smug asshole, yeah.”

John grinned and went to the sink, nudging Alex out of the way. 

“Leave the dishes, I got ‘em.”

Alex moved to the side and looked back at John, scratching his forearm. It wasn’t that he minded John doing the dishes; normally he’d take the free pass and run fast and run far but his hands needed to be doing something right now and he couldn’t do anything else until the cookies were ready.

“It’s fine,” he said, shrugging. “I made the mess. I should clean it.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” John grinned. “You did the baking. You should get a break. I wasn’t doing anything anyway.”

“Neither was I,” he argued as John grabbed the bottle of washing up liquid and squirted it in with an artistic swish of his wrist. He snapped the lid shut and put it back at the side of the sink. Alex stared at the inside, watching the mounds of bubbles rise up and envelope the dirty dishes. 

John turned to him with a soft smile that Alex missed. He stepped closer to his boyfriend and kissed his cheek gently. 

“Go and sit down. You can keep an eye on your cookies from there or you can stare at my ass while I do the dishes. It’s up to you,” he teased. “You’ve been in that office all day, suffocating yourself. I was drawing. I can take my turn at doing something around here, okay?”

Alex looked up and met John’s eyes. It was hard to name the colour exactly. Hazel was the first word that sprung to mind but that was only the beginning. In the kitchen light, John’s eyes were soft brown, almost like sand or the cracked leather cover of an old book. In mornings when they were curled in bed together with the curtains drawn, his eyes were like milky coffee in the dim light that trickled into their room. But sometimes his eyes weren’t brown at all. In the park when they were tucked away under the bough of a tree, John’s eyes were the green ocean lapping against the white sand, shining as brightly as cut glass. His eyes were an entire forest all within themselves, the canopy of leaves and the knotted bark and the rich overturned earth and Alex had seen each and every shade they could be. It made butterflies in his stomach and Alex would chide himself for acting like a bloody lovesick teenager. 

His hands felt too idle hanging at his sides so he placed them on John’s hips, holding him loosely. He pressed their legs together, getting a thigh wedged between John’s and forced a tiny smile. 

At heart, Alex was a tactile creature, something he hadn’t learned until later in life. The events of his childhood meant he wasn’t touched often. There hadn’t been much room for fondness or many gentle touches, no friendly contact. Touching didn’t come naturally to Alex and he didn’t trust easily. 

John was an exception. 

It hadn’t been fast and it hadn’t happened easily. The first time John had touched him, every one of Alex’s systems had ground to a halt. A simple hand on his shoulder had made him freeze; he had been stiff and unsure and every atom in his body had screamed ‘run’. No one else seemed to notice that Alex was uncomfortable with it, maybe because it wasn’t a problem to anyone else. Over time, he had eased into it, pushing back into the caresses and melting when a hand slid into his hair. 

It took even longer to touch back. Alex had tested the waters gingerly, copying what John had done, did it again and again until he did it without thinking. They touched freely, trading kisses and tiny brushes of fingers across expanses of skin, nudging feet under tables, a hand laid on a thigh, leaning on each other’s shoulders. Now Alex was never happier than when he was being bracketed by John, something that would have made him squirm before. 

He moved closer, stopping with millimetres between their noses and stared into John’s eyes. They were the colour of old parchment; something sacred and beautiful. John was staring right back into his and smiling that soft smile that made Alex’s insides melt. He could feel the heat of John’s breath on his lips and it made Alex’s spine tingle. His lips parted gently and the tiny smile became genuine; he could feel it slipping over the line and transforming into something real. 

John moved his head, trying to close the gap between their lips and Alex’s smile grew. He nudged their noses together gently and tilted his head to the side, letting John kiss him. It was slow and lazy, neither one of them rushing into anything. Alex dipped his tongue into John’s mouth and could taste the coffee he had been drinking in the other room. His lips were bitter and Alex wanted more of it immediately. 

He slid his hands around to John's ass and pulled him closer. John ran both of his hands into Alex’s hair, lifting it back from his face and broke the kiss. They were connected from head to toe, wrapped around each other like tangled earphones. It was nearly impossible to tell where one of them ended and the other began. He nipped at Alex’s bottom lip, tugging on it gently and Alex made a tiny noise in the back of his throat, a needy little whimper that he didn’t realise he was choking back until the sound reached his ears. The tension in his stomach unfurled and his belly tingled with anticipation. Shivers travelled along his nerves, cascading like waterfalls down his arms to the tips of his fingers and crept up his spine, along his jawline and into the back of his head. 

John bit Alex’s lip again and current hummed through his body. It buzzed under his skin like the electricity behind the walls. His skin prickled with it as John moved further down, kissing along his jawline. Alex tipped his head back, giving John more access to the long column of his neck. His lips parted around each breath and his eyes closed as the heat of John’s soft lips brushed his neck again and again. His mind was a myriad of messy, half formed thoughts, floating hazily just above his reach. For once, Alex wasn’t desperate to chase after them. He let them hang there untouched like lanterns along the beach front while he lay on the sand and stared up at the soft light. 

Alex ran his hands underneath John’s shirt and slid them up the planes of his sides. He could feel the hard ridges of John’s ribs; he scratched his nails down them and felt the delicate bumps rising under the pads of his fingers. John shivered and kissed the spot just below his left ear. The muscles in Alex’s jaw forgot how to work and his mouth fell open silently and without protest. John knew damn well he loved being kissed there and he used it every time he had a chance. Alex could feel him grinning against his neck as he kissed the spot again hard. The tip of John’s tongue darted out, licking Alex’s neck and it elicited a gasp out of him. His hands spasmed, tightening around John’s sides and John hummed back at him. His hands slid lower in answer and his fingertips dipped just below the waistband of Alex’s pyjamas. His blood was pumping hard through his veins and heat was coursing through Alex now. He was probably blushing; his cheeks and neck were hot and he swore he could feel the colour creeping across his face. 

As if John knew what he was thinking, he moved his head a little lower and pushed Alex’s t-shirt and hoodie off his shoulder as far as he could. He traced his nose lightly over his collarbone and Alex shivered again and exhaled. John bit his shoulder at the base of his neck. Alex hissed in a breath, biting his lip hard to hold back the groan and his hands clutched harder at John’s sides. Jesus, John knew him too well. He would complain if he didn’t love it so god damn much. 

John glanced up cheekily at Alex from under those fricking eyelashes, grinning. He knew. Alex made the mistake of glancing back at him and John bit him again, teasing. He wanted Alex to watch, wanted to hear him, wanted to hear all of the noises he was drawing out of his boyfriend but Alex wasn’t going to let him win that easily. He squeezed his eyes shut and chewed the inside of his lip. They both knew it was only a matter of time but that wasn’t the point. It was the principle of the thing. He wasn’t going to give in that quickly. 

John skated a hand higher, up Alex’s stomach and spread the palm of his hand against his chest. His fingers were cool and it raised the skin on Alex’s arms. The other hand cupped the curve of his ass, still teasing at the waistband. Alex was starting to unravel at the edges. He was ruffled and hot; his hoodie was hanging off his shoulder and he bet his hair was a mess with the way John had been playing with it. 

Behind them, the cooker timer beeped shrilly. Alex huffed a chuckle as John pouted and buried his nose into his neck, trying to keep Alex there.

“Sorry, gotta check on those if we don’t want the whole house to burn down,” he smiled softly, taking his hands out from under John’s shirt. He patted his boyfriend’s shoulders briskly and John stuck his bottom lip out.

“You’re choosing cookies over me?”

Alex couldn’t help the little smile at that as he pulled away. 

“I have to. Adult responsibilities and all that shit, remember? Besides we haven’t had the house long,” he pointed out. “I don’t want to burn it to the ground.”

“Fine,” John sulked, folding his arms over his chest as Alex bent down to open the oven. He took the oven gloves out of the drawer and slipped the tray out, checking the colour of the cookies in the light. They were, as every recipe liked to say, golden and light. Alex pressed the cookies gently with a finger. The outside was crisp and the middle slightly softer, almost gooey at the centre, just the way they should be. 

“All right, these are done,” he said, straightening up. He set the baking tray on the stove to give the cookies a chance to cool and tossed the oven gloves back into the drawer. “And no, you can’t have any yet. They’re just out of the oven and I’m not letting you burn that beautiful mouth of yours,” Alex smirked.

John kept up the pretence and turned his back to Alex, starting to scrub the cookie dough off the mixing spoon moodily. 

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Really?”

“…Shut up.”

Alex chuckled once and leaned back against the oven, folding his arms across his stomach. 

“Leave it a few minutes first. They’ll probably be cool enough once you’ve finished with the dishes.”

“I’m taking one even if they aren’t,” John told him. “They smell so good. They’re teasing me. You’re going to make me fat, you know. I hope you’re happy with yourself,” he said, turning to point the dripping spoon at Alex’s chest. 

“I didn’t tell you you had to eat all the cookies,” Alex retorted.

“Yeah but you made them all. You think I’m going to let cookies just sit there? In my house? I thought you knew me better than that,” John sniffed, bringing the spoon to his chest. He twisted it in both hands, looking like something that had stepped right out of a cheesy drama.  
Alex rolled his eyes, trying to conceal the smirk. John shot him a shit-eating grin and dropped the spoon into the dish rack.

Alex stood against the oven, feeling the heat from the metal door warming the backs of his thighs as he watched John clean the dishes. The water sloshed against the sides of the sink as John scrubbed dutifully and ran off dishes in the rack, dripping rhythmically against the plastic tray underneath. Music was still drifting out from his speaker behind him and the sweet smell of the freshly baked cookies wafted through the air. The whole atmosphere was very domestic but already the tension was starting to creep back into Alex’s shoulders. With nothing to keep his mind and his hands occupied, his thoughts started to wander back towards work, reminding him that he should be finishing off his report instead of watching his boyfriend, handsome as he was, doing dishes. He had already been gone for – he twisted to look at the clock - twenty minutes. That was long enough for a break. He should get back to the office, otherwise he was never going to go back tonight and if he didn’t do some more work tonight, he would never get it finished in time. 

Alex’s mind kicked into overdrive, planning the schedule for the rest of his week. He and Burr needed to present the case to Washington on Friday which meant they needed at least one run through together before then. That meant Alex had until Thursday morning latest to finish his report. It was Saturday now but tomorrow they had promised to go for lunch at Lafayette’s house and he wouldn’t get much work squeezed around that. 

And Monday, he had to gather files from Accounting and cross-reference them with old records down in the basement which would take damn near all day if it was going to be done properly. And Alex was determined to do it properly. Then he had to sort out files for the Keller case and bring those to Jefferson to tie it in with the ongoing Piper debacle and Washington had asked him to take a look at some of the shipments coming into the office and to organise lists of what the department needed. That would take all of Tuesday which meant he wouldn’t get any more work done on this project until Wednesday if he didn’t finish it tonight. 

And Wednesday he was supposed to be consulting with Accounting again about the latest invoices which were a total train wreck. He had never seen a shittier set of them in his life. At this rate, he would never get a chance to work on the project until Thursday. Then he and Burr wouldn’t get a run through, or a rushed practice at best, and then they’d be stuck improvising in front of Washington which was not going to go down well. They needed to kick ass with this project and they weren’t going to do that if Alex couldn’t get his shit together and stop wasting time on baking fucking cookies. 

At least if it all went to shit, he could bake some cookies on Thursday night and try to sugar coat Washington.

Fuck.

His stomach was churning again and he had stopped listening to the music. The steady drip of water from the dishes was gone too. There was no heat from the oven against his legs. 

Why had he thought this was a good idea? He was wasting so much time; time he didn’t have. They had a house now and if Alex kept fucking about like this, he was going to lose his job and then they couldn’t afford to stay in their house and they’d only had it six months and –

“Hey, are those cookies cool enough to eat yet?”

He looked up and found John looking back at him. It took his reeling brain a second too long to work out a) that John was talking to him and b) what he had said. His mouth answered before his mind had fully engaged in the question. He hummed at John questioningly and John opened his mouth to repeat his enquiry when the words finally sank into Alex’s consciousness.

“Oh, yeah,” he shook his head, cutting John off before he had spoken. “Yeah, they should be cool enough.” He tried to brush it off casually but John wasn’t having any of it.

“You off somewhere again?”

He stepped closer, lifting a loose strand of Alex’s hair and tucked it delicately behind his ear. He let his hand linger, fingertips ghosting over Alex’s jawline and stroking his cheekbones. It was soft and loving and Alex didn’t deserve it but he craved the contact so he stood motionlessly, arms folded, allowing John to caress him, torn between pulling away and pushing into the touch. 

He shrugged his shoulders, uncommitted, at John’s question. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” he murmured, brushing his fingers through Alex’s hair again. It sent fireworks tumbling down his spine and Alex let out a shaky little breath he didn’t know he had been holding. John repeated the motion, a steady, soft graze of his fingernails across his scalp that sent shivers across his skin like ripples in a lake. “You’ve been baking a lot of cookies recently.”

All Alex could do was hum in response and force his traitorous eyes to stay open.

“Not that I’m complaining. The cookies are amazing and if I get fat in the process, I’ll still be happy about it.” John paused to half smile at him and Alex’s fingers clenched around his arms, plunging his nails into his skin. John’s eyes flickered down at the movement and he continued sympathetically. “But I know you’ve made so many because you’re stressed and that’s not something I wanna just sit and watch.”

Alex dropped his eyes away from John’s face as his chest tightened with guilt. It wasn’t John’s fault he was stressed. He just had so much to do and centuries too little to get it all done in. 

“I’m fine,” he said again quietly, barely above a whisper. On top of everything else, now he was worrying John and that was unacceptable. John didn’t need to worry about him; he was fine. He needed to get his ass in gear and start ticking some things off his never-ending to do list but that wasn’t any reason for John to worry. 

John sighed through his nose and Alex wanted to curl up into a ball in a dark corner. He had wanted to take a break and give his mind a chance to rejuvenate, not turn it into a work intervention. And that was exactly where this was heading. Again.

John seemed to sense it too and smiled up at him warmly. “Why don’t we take some of cookies into the living room? The fire’s lit. It’s really cosy and we can cuddle on the sofa and eat until all of the cookies are gone.”

That was unfair. Now he wanted nothing more than to snuggle in front of a roaring fire and eat cookies with John and kiss him wrapped up in a blanket together but he couldn’t. He needed to finish. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“I can’t,” he answered hoarsely. “I need to finish this report.”

“You have to finish it tonight?”

“If I don’t get more of it done now, I’ll never have it done for Thursday and if I don’t have it done by then, Burr and I won’t get to go through it all together and we’ll be adlibbing in front of Washington and we can’t afford to do that. And tomorrow we’re going to Laf’s and then Monday, I have stuff to do in the office and Tuesday too, and Wednesday and I mightn’t get enough time to work on it and I can’t go in with a shoddy report to Burr. Do you have any idea how demeaning that would be? It has to be perfect –“

Oh god. The words wouldn’t stop pouring out of Alex’s mouth. He could hear his voice becoming strained the more he spoke and his throat was tightening around a lump. His eyes filled and he blinked hard to dispel the tears.

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry over this. How pathetic are you? It’s work. Everyone has to do it and no one else makes such a fucking fuss over it. You don’t see John crying over his job and he’s a _nurse._ He has so much more stress to deal with than you do and he can keep it together. So why can’t you, you fucking idiot?

Alex felt two strong hands clutch his shoulders and he froze, choking on the torrent of words. He didn’t know what he had been saying but John’s eyes were full of concern and it made shame burn hot in his stomach. He dropped his eyes instantly; looking at John like that was physically painful and Alex couldn’t bear it.

John swept Alex’s hair back from his face again, trailing his hand across his forehead. Alex closed his eyes and focused on the sensation. He couldn’t bring himself to meet John’s eyes and see how much it was hurting him.

“Listen Alex,” he murmured, pausing to kiss his forehead. “You have plenty of time. And I know you. You’ve never missed a deadline or handed in a shitty piece of work in your life. You’ll kick ass on this, I know you will. But you’re tired and overworked. You haven’t come out of that office in like seven hours and I know you weren’t in there just fucking around. So why don’t we take the cookies in, I’ll make us some coffee to go with them and we can put on a movie or stare at the fire or whatever you want to do? And then we can lie in in the morning and go to Laf’s and when you get back, you can start some more work on it if you really need to.”

Alex sighed and let his head fall defeated against John’s shoulder. John held him closely and carded a hand into his hair at the nape of his neck. He made small circles on his scalp and Alex went pliant and quiet under him. John was right. It was coming up to 3am and he needed to relax if he was ever going to sleep tonight. And not sleeping would only cause a further decline in his work standards and add more stress. It was a vicious cycle, really. 

They stayed like that for a moment before Alex whispered “Okay,” and dragged his head back from John’s shoulder. John smiled back happily and kissed the bridge of his nose and then set about making the coffee. 

Well, if he had to give up, that smile made it worth it. 

Alex fetched a plate and arranged the cookies artistically on it while John made two cups of coffee. They switched the music off and brought the whole lot into the living room and sat on the sofa, Alex nestled against John’s shoulder and his mug cradled in his lap. He rubbed his thumb over the rim of the cup and nibbled on the end of a cookie while John bit one in half and chewed it contentedly. 

The fire was getting low but the heat was still billowing out into the room, warming Alex’s cheeks. He watched the flames twisting, lapping at the heels of the smoke as it spiralled up out of sight like something alive dancing its way up the chimney. He sipped at his coffee, washing down the cookie crumbs.

“You know, the fire is nice to look at but it is a pain in the ass to try and draw,” John told him, taking a sip of his own coffee. 

“You drew it?” he asked curiously.

“I tried.”

Alex pushed himself up from John and looked at him expectantly. Smiling, John set his coffee mug on the ground and reached down the side of the sofa to lift his sketchbook up. He flicked it open at a page and handed it over to Alex. 

He set his own mug down and laid the pad out over his crossed legs. On the page in front of him, there were multiple sketches of their fireplace, the roaring fire inset. There was no colour to the drawings but Alex could see the bright yellows and the soft orange tips of the flames, the pitch black of the coal, the wispy grey-white of the smoke. He could almost feel the heat from the flames against his fingertips and hear the crackle of the coal as it burned. 

“You are too talented for your own good,” Alex informed him, handing the book back. John put it back down the side of the sofa and reached for his coffee again.

“Coming from you, I’ll take that.”

Alex settled back into his place, tucked against John’s side and drank his coffee. He took another cookie from the plate and ate while John grabbed another and shoved it into his mouth. And then another. Alex prodded his arm.

“You are going to get fat and I am not taking the blame for it.”

“Itowuso,” John mumbled around a mouthful of cookie. 

He arched an eyebrow at him. “Do I really have to tell you not to talk with your mouth full?” 

John swallowed and grinned proudly. “It’s not my fault your cookies are so good.”

“What has that got to do with it?”

John huffed “Do you always have to ruin my fun with your logic?”

“Oh, I’m ruining your fun?” he teased. “Who was it who made the cookies again?”

“Shut up.”

Alex huffed a laugh and finished his coffee, holding the empty mug against his chest. The residual heat helped loosen some of the tightness that was still there. He clutched to it like a child holding a teddy bear while John finished his and stole another cookie, mostly to spite Alex for telling him he was going to get fat. 

When they were done, John took the mugs away into the kitchen. A part of Alex wanted to cling to it and not let John take it away but he knew it was ridiculous to want to keep an empty mug and he didn’t feel like explaining it so he let John have it. John brought the cookies into the kitchen with the mugs, to take another one without Alex seeing, he suspected. 

With John gone, Alex sprawled sideways onto the sofa like a felled tree and wrapped his arms around his stomach. He scratched at his ribcage unthinkingly as he stared at the fire, watching it burn. Strands of hair straggled across his face but he was too lazy to move them. He suddenly realised how cool he felt when John’s warmth wasn’t wrapped around him like a blanket. The heat from the fire warmed his face pleasantly but it wasn’t close enough. He needed more. His fingers stiffened in his hoodie, drawing his elbows in closer, squeezing his ribs like he was trying to pull his arms into his body. His mind was beginning to wander again when a gentle voice interrupted him.

“Don’t you think bed would be a nicer place to do that?”

Alex stretched his neck, craning to find John leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. John was smiling again but Alex could see the concern etched around his eyes and that just wouldn’t do.

“Depends on what that is, really,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. John turned away slowly, trailing his hand down the doorframe. Alex’s eyes lingered on the curve of his back and stole a quick, unsubtle glance at the curve of his ass too. John was eyeing him over his shoulder and they both knew where Alex’s attention was but neither mentioned it. 

“Why don’t you come to bed and find out?” he drawled, letting his hand slip away as he sashayed - fucking _sashayed_ \- off down the hall. Like he thought he was a runway model.

With that ass though…

Alex hauled himself up from the sofa and followed John to the bedroom like a lost puppy. He was attacked the moment he reached the doorway, hands grabbing his waist and tugging him into the bedroom. John’s mouth crashed against his and he hummed in surprise; not that he hadn’t known it was coming but he hadn’t expected it to be quite so forceful. His hands snaked under John’s shirt, skimming up his sides. He heard the door click shut behind him. John must have kicked it closed but the door was the last thing on Alex’s mind right now. He was much more distracted by John’s tongue darting at the edge of his lips, tracing the outline of the lower one, tacitly asking for permission. Alex parted them in answer and John slid his tongue into his mouth, moving his hands to cup Alex’s face while they kissed. 

Alex groaned lowly; he could taste the sweet chocolate from the cookies and the underlying bitter tinge of coffee. He snaked his hands around to John’s back and tugged him closer. John took the opportunity to grind against him and Alex groaned again, louder this time. It was too easy when they were practically the same height; a fact they both regularly used to their advantage.

With a twist, John swapped their positions and backed Alex towards the bed without breaking the kiss. He didn’t stop until Alex’s calves hit the side and they toppled haphazardly onto the mattress. John caught himself, propping himself above Alex, one arm either side of his head. There was a predatory glint in his eye as he looked down at him, one that made Alex’s nerves crackle. He felt like prey that had wandered blindly into a trap and his stomach flipped with nervous excitement.

Almost on cue, John dipped his head and bit his neck. He gasped and his back arched slightly as John sucked his skin hard. His hands reached for John but he snatched his wrists and pinned them to the mattress at either side of Alex’s head.

John’s mouth moved closer to his collarbone and sucked another love bite into his skin. His hips twitched and Alex hummed, biting the inside of his lip to keep himself from making more noise. John nipped along the underside of his jaw to his ear and nudged the lobe gently with his nose. Alex lay still, waiting impatiently as John teased him. In that position, John’s breath tickled his neck and his hair tickled his cheek. Alex giggled and turned his face away. John followed him patiently and shook his head, making his ponytail tumble over his shoulders and brush Alex’s face. 

Alex snapped his head the other way, face contorted somewhere between a grimace and a grin. 

“Stop it,” he chuckled, curling his fingers up. He moved his head again but John’s hair was everywhere and it was only defeating the purpose of moving in the first place. 

John chuckled too and flicked his hair back over his shoulder. He kissed his forehead and bent down to nibble his earlobe.

“Better?” he asked, Alex’s ear still between his teeth. He tugged it gently and Alex choked back a moan. Heat surged in his gut and he wriggled his hips helplessly under John. His face was flushed, though now he couldn’t blame it solely on the heat from the fire. 

“Mmm, better.”

“Good,” John growled. His voice was low and rough as thunder in Alex’s ear. That damn voice _did_ things to him. He swallowed a whine and his fingers curled into his palms but Alex couldn’t quite stifle the moan as John moved again, pressing his thigh against his groin. His hips pushed up frantically after John, trying to create more friction, blindly searching for _more_ ; more John, more pressure, more _now_ please, for the love of God. 

John went back to his mouth, kissing him hard and Alex arched up desperately into it. He didn’t like his hands being restrained. He wanted to _touch_ and he couldn’t do it like this. His wrists tensed and struggled against John’s hands, striving to get free so he could get that bloody shirt off. 

That brought a smirk to John’s face and he backed away to get a better look at him. Alex whimpered at the loss of contact and John’s smile softened. He ducked down and kissed him again, releasing his wrists. His hands shot to John’s sides, gripping fistfuls of his shirt as he kissed him back fiercely. He pulled John down on top of him, touching as much of them together as he possibly could. John’s hands wandered casually down his sides to the hem of his hoodie and Alex breathed “Yes,” before John had even asked. 

Backing away again, John pulled Alex’s hoodie and shirt up and Alex wriggled out of them, snatching them from his hands and tossed them over the edge of the bed behind him. He caught the hem of John’s shirt and yanked it over his curls, launching it after his own. Strands of hair at the sides of John’s head stood up frizzly and Alex longed to pull his hair tie out and run both of his hands into it. The want was almost a physical ache in his stomach.  
John laughed as he watched it being flung. 

“Guess mine too then.”

“Yes,” Alex murmured, gliding his hands up John’s body. He spread them wide, sweeping his thumbs over John’s nipples in tiny circles. John sighed a moan and dropped his head back. Alex gazed at John’s face as his hands worked. His eyes were closed and his soft lips were parted, trembling like John was mouthing all of his secrets to him. God, it was so distracting. He wanted to kiss those lips and draw out every last one of their secrets. 

He loved making John like this. There was something about having him quiet and malleable because of him. He could make John feel safe and loved, like he could share all of his secrets and be this vulnerable, like he was protected when he was with Alex. Like they were somehow safer when they were together. When Alex looked at John’s face, he knew what home felt like and that was something he had given up for lost long before he had ever met John. 

He didn’t believe in fate or miracles or star-crossed lovers. John wasn’t any of those things and that was what made him so perfect. He was real and he was here and he loved Alex and Alex loved him. That was all he could ever ask for.

“John,” he murmured as if speaking too loudly would shatter the moment.

John looked down at him. His pupils were blown wide and there was an intensity in his gaze that made Alex feel like he was about to be devoured. His heart missed a beat and his hands stilled on John’s chest. Alex realised he could feel his ragged breathing and his own chest was heaving in the same rhythm, their synchronised panting the only sound filling the air. For a few precious seconds, everything was still. 

“Come here.”

John swooped down and kissed Alex. The kiss stoked the fire already kindled in the pit of his stomach. His arms held John close against him, keeping him flush against his body. His hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck, twisting the loose curls around his finger. John whined and nipped his lip as Alex worked the tie out of his hair and tossed it away carelessly. He plunged his hands into John’s hair as it fell forwards, scratching his fingernails over his scalp. John shuddered hard and broke the kiss to catch his breath. 

Alex gazed at his face again and caressed John’s cheek, ghosting his fingertips over the clusters of freckles. John was fucking gorgeous, there were no two ways about it and somehow, he was Alex’s masterpiece. No one else got to see the way John’s hair frizzed after a really good shag, or the little smile, the one that touched his eyes when Alex told him he was beautiful and brushed his hair from his face. No one else got to hear John telling his alarm to fuck off at 6am and grouchily putting it on snooze to grab an extra ten minutes. No one else got to experience John purposely trying to hide their pyjamas so they would finally wear a matching pair – a war that to this day, John had not won. No one else got to see John the way Alex did and that made his heart swell. He was the one that had been allowed in and granted access to John’s heart. He didn’t always understand why; in fact, he never did but that didn’t matter. John had chosen him and that was that. 

He moved closer and kissed both of John’s eyes reverently. John’s thumb traced out circles on Alex’s hip and Alex shivered and kissed his forehead. And his nose. And his lips. He massaged John’s scalp in slow, deliberate circles and John shivered too. 

Kicking off the floor gently, Alex wormed his way further up the bed so they could both get onto the mattress fully. John followed, straddling him but Alex grabbed his arms and twisted, pulling him down onto his side so they were face to face. He took his time, leaving trails of soft kisses down John’s throat and over the ridge of his chest, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. John’s hand slipped to Alex’s hair, toying with the ends of it while the other curled itself around his shoulder blades. The touch was deceptively gentle, a solid weight on his back but there was an underlying pressure to it, something that was just a little too tight to be entirely casual. It was almost possessive, as if John was claiming Alex as _his_. A visceral surge of heat burst through his stomach at the thought, catching him off-guard. His half-hard dick twitched against John’s thigh and Alex hid his face against John’s collarbone, biting hard to cover his own embarrassment. 

John’s gasp mingled with his own heaving breaths and his arms squeezed Alex tighter. He smirked and rolled his hips, forcing Alex to pause for a moment to close his eyes and groan. His fingers were digging into John’s arms, probably hard enough to bruise, he thought to himself. In retaliation, Alex moved higher, sucking a hickey onto John’s neck; one that was definitely too high to be hidden for dinner tomorrow without a scarf or a turtleneck. He couldn’t be held accountable for it; that little patch of freckles was begging for a love bite.  
John gasped a laugh and twirled a lock of Alex’s hair. 

“I guess Laf and Herc will know what we were up to now.”

“They always know,” Alex retorted, grazing his teeth over John’s neck, just below his ear. “Besides, you already gave me one. They were gonna see that.”

“Yeah, but it’s funny when it’s you,” John teased.

Alex growled and nipped John’s ear and John laughed again breathlessly. They were both covered in a fine sheen of sweat; Alex could feel his own skin slick and he could taste the saltiness from John’s neck. He kissed John’s neck again hungrily. God, he needed to remember to tell John how much he loved his neck. He ducked lower, mouthing along John’s chest while John’s fingers toyed with his hair, massaging the nape of his neck. Alex almost melted into a puddle as shivers cascaded down his spine to the tips of his toes. 

Deciding that he wasn’t the only one who should experience that, Alex tipped his head to the side and brushed a short, light kiss to John’s right nipple. John writhed and tightened his hand into a fist in his hair. He stifled a groan, biting down hard on his lip. Urged on by the sounds his boyfriend was desperately trying not to make above him, he flicked his tongue out, grazing it over John’s nipple. That got a groan, uncensored that time. Smiling, Alex pulled back a fraction and blew gently across the wet skin. Goose bumps broke out on John’s arms and he hissed. 

“Ah, Alex,” he panted, gripping his hair tighter. 

“What?” he asked innocently, shifting to do the same to his left nipple. 

“Fuuuuck,” John whispered, screwing his eyes shut. 

“You like it.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I think we established that.”

“Then what’s the problem?” 

Alex kissed his nipple again, grazing his teeth barely across it and he could almost hear John grinding his teeth together to hold back a moan. Not that it helped. He stayed at John’s chest, kissing and licking and teasing until John couldn’t stay still any longer. He squirmed, yanking Alex’s hair back as he tried to relieve some of the tightness in his pants. Alex could feel John’s erection pressed hard against his stomach and his own throbbed as John whimpered.

“Ale-eeeex.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured, slipping John’s pyjama bottoms down. Alex slid down the mattress, tugging them off over his feet and threw them to the floor. John wiggled again above him and Alex held his hips and kissed the tip of his dick. John gasped loudly above him and bucked involuntarily, almost hitting Alex in the face. He tightened his grip, holding him steady and took the length of him into his mouth. John groaned obscenely and dropped his head to his chest, hands pulling Alex’s hair roughly. 

“Oh Jesus, Alex, fuck. Fuck. Your fucking mouth – ah – it’s so – God.”

Alex worked him with his tongue, letting the heat and the wetness of his mouth do most of it. He breathed hard through his nose, trying not to gasp as John pulled his hair - fuck his stupid sensitive scalp - or choke as John rutted. He could feel the hardness of John’s dick in his mouth, could feel every throb and pulse as John pushed into him, trying to pick up the pace. The little whimpers and pleas escaping John’s lips were intoxicating. Alex felt like he was flying as he rolled his tongue and John moaned filthily. 

“ _Christ,_ Alex. Shit.”

Alex’s mouth was too occupied to give John a verbal reply so he sucked harder instead, increasing the pressure. John arched above him, accidentally forcing himself further into Alex’s mouth. Alex sucked again, closing his eyes for a second as he tried not to gag and John muttered an apology. 

“Sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry, oh, Jesus fucking -,” he protested breathlessly as Alex rolled his tongue again.

He ran his tongue roughly over John, feeling the texture hardening. His lips worked against the base, squeezing softly and John’s loud moans went straight to his own erection, making it throb painfully. His dick was pressed against the back of Alex’s throat and the taste of coffee kisses was lost to the overpowering taste of John. It was something he never got enough of, the closeness of having John in his mouth like this. It was addictive as cocaine and the noises John made were positively pornographic. 

Above him, John was valiantly attempting to keep his hips in place, whimpering and moaning and waves of pleasure unfurled in Alex’s gut. The roots of his hair were taking a lot of John’s redirected impulses and the pain of it was sending shockwaves through him. Not that he minded his hair being pulled. It felt good to know exactly how much John was enjoying this but neither of them were going to last long like this.

He mouthed John’s dick, sucking him off slowly and teasing him with his tongue until he could taste beads of cum leaking down his throat and John shoved his shoulder roughly with the heel of his hand. 

“Alex, I’m – I’m coming,” he panted. His voice was gloriously strained and the sound went straight to Alex’s dick. He purred lowly and John curved backwards. His moan echoed lewdly around their bedroom and Alex picked up the pace, working him harder, faster, faster. He pushed at Alex’s shoulder again when he didn’t pull back. 

“Alex, I can’t – ah – ah, oh god, Alex - “

He stayed there, sucking John off until he came in his mouth, turning the air blue as his body snapped backwards. Alex swallowed and all the tension vanished from John’s body. He sank into the bed limply like a puppet that had its strings cut. Alex rolled onto his back and let his arms fall at his sides. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and blinked rapidly. His head was spinning and his heart was running like a wild horse. His mouth was dry and tasted like salt and the back of his throat ached dully. His own erection was almost painfully tight and he rolled his hips against the mattress, trying to find some relief. He was worn around the edges, frayed and coming apart at the seams. If he moved too much, he was going to pull apart into a tangle of nerve endings right here on the mattress. 

John patted his shoulders, urging him wordlessly to come back up while he tried to catch his breath too. Alex slithered up and kissed John languidly, shutting his eyes as the world began to cartwheel. John’s mouth was divine. It made him feel dizzy and heady like he had drunk too much red wine. He licked at his cupid’s bow, humming as he brushed his tongue over the curve of his upper lip. John’s mouth still tasted of the cookies and coffee, except now they can both taste John and savour how amazing he is. The sweetness and bitterness mixed together with the taste of John on his tongue and Alex’s insides melted like hot wax. He wanted to stay there forever, tasting John’s sweet mouth but John had other plans. He pulled back and mouthed at Alex’s collar bone and Alex hummed softly. John started to slide lower but Alex held his shoulders.

“No, stay here,” he pleaded hoarsely. 

John grinned against his chest and placed a kiss in the ridge. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Then kiss me.”

“That I can do.”

John moved up again and kissed Alex out of his senses. The rest of the world fell away to the sparks flying along his jangled nerves, to the taste of John’s tongue on his and to the slick heat of John’s nude body pressed head to toe against his. There were hands everywhere; in his hair, on his sides, on his hips, on his back, pulling him closer, under his thigh, hitching it up over John’s. Alex couldn’t open his eyes to see if John really had sprouted extra limbs out of thin air but it didn’t matter. They were going at it like a bunch of hormonal teenagers and Alex couldn’t remember the last time he had been so _hot_. New York had never been warm enough for him but John was taking it above and beyond. They were creating enough heat between them to start nuclear fusion, for fuck’s sake. 

Alex pulled back and gasped for breath and John took the opportunity to leave a frenzied track of kisses down his body. They didn’t have time for slow now; Alex wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out and then suddenly his pyjamas were gone; whipped off from his legs and John’s beautiful, godly, masterful mouth was there instead, wrapped around his dick. Alex gasped and gripped John’s shoulders hard, his fingers biting into the skin. He whimpered and curled his legs up slightly while John’s tongue slid agonisingly slowly over the tip. His thighs tensed around John’s torso, gripping him tighter. 

“Jo-hn,” the broken name escaped his lips and he dropped his head forward, begging, pleading for release. John hummed and picked up the pace and all Alex could do was moan into it. He was close; so goddamn fucking close. His body was as tense as a steel rod and his fingers were dug so hard into John’s shoulders, he was sure he was going to bruise his bones. His heart was doing complicated gymnastics routines in his chest and waves of pleasure were crashing in his gut, making him twitch and writhe as he tried to hold on.

“John – John, I’m – ah, fuck, I’m close –“ he warned. “I’m – fuck, I’m coming.”

John responded by rolling his tongue and Alex lost control entirely and came in his mouth. He fell lax against the bed, his heart pounding in his ears like the water roaring down over his head in the shower. Coloured dots clouded his vision and his stomach somersaulted like he had just come off the big coaster. His eyes fluttered closed and he couldn’t muster the energy to pry them open, even as John climbed back up beside him and stroked his hair through the aftershocks.

Alex felt amazing. He felt _high_. His bloodstream was singing and every time John’s fingers carded through his hair, he felt a million tiny butterfly wings grazing the inside of his ribcage. He was light enough to float, his heart was buoyant and the omnipresent static that had an almost permanent residency in his head had been banished into a dark corner. Jesus, John was a miracle. There was almost nothing in the world that could do that for Alex and he had a personal supply of the one thing that could.

They lay like that for a while, in complete silence other than their mingled gasps of breath. John played with Alex’s hair and he turned into John, laying his palms flat against his chest. He took a few deep breaths and his thumbs made tiny circles on John’s chest as they both came down again gradually. Alex buried his nose into the side of John’s neck, hiding in the darkness. He could hear John’s heart thudding along with his and could feel every heave of his chest. 

Eventually he murmured “At least we didn’t make a mess.”

John snorted and massaged his scalp gently. Alex shivered and curled in closer to John.

“We were very clean about the whole thing. I can’t tell if it’s sexy or if we’re just getting so old that we actually worried about the mess.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m still young and sexy.”

John chuckled again. “But honestly, I’m kind of glad because I do not have the energy to shower right now,” he admitted. 

“Neither do I. And I hate feeling sticky and dirty. So it all worked out for the best.”

John hummed thoughtfully and kissed his forehead. Alex looked up and scooched a little higher, touching the tips of their noses together. John kissed him again, unhurriedly. It was so gentle, so different to what they had just done that it made Alex’s head swim. He felt like he was floating in a calm sea, drifting along as the waves lapped against his skin. It felt like moonlight falling over the countryside, like fall leaves fluttering aimlessly down from the trees, like a cool summer breeze. Alex cupped John’s face and kissed him back, pouring every ounce of love he could into the simple chaste gesture. 

“I love you,” he whispered, like the first time he had ever told John.

“I love you too, Alex.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @jawnlma for doing pretty much everything but write this piece and for listening to all my whining about the smut. 
> 
> This is the first time I’ve done it so...
> 
> And thank you for reading it. You can have one of Alex’s cookies (they’re good).
> 
> This is for a prompt in The Les Mis Network on Discord (but I’m hiding and not putting it there for now so shhhh, this is just for credit)


End file.
